The Choice
by winchesterlove94
Summary: Season One- Hurt!Sam Hurt!Protective!Dean...The boys' night off the job turns into a sudden fight for survival. Will they make it out alive or will one brother sacrifice them-self for the other?


**Hey guys!**

**A/N: So I know I have like two other stories that need to be updated and I haven't forgotten about them! A lot of stuff has been going on, but I wanted to get out _something_ to y'all! This idea just kinda popped into my head one night and wouldn't leave me alone, so I figured I'd see what you guys thought about it!** **Thanks for stopping by! ****:D**

**(Set early S1.)**

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The Impala creaked as the two occupants pulled themselves out of the warmth of the car; the doors squeaking shut simultaneously.

"Oh man, Sammy- I gotta tell you, I haven't had that much fun hustling pool in a while," Dean sighed happily; shoving the car keys into the pocket of his leather jacket. "Did you see that guys' face when I sunk my last ball in- priceless," he continued cheekily.

Sam scoffed a laugh, scanning the mostly empty parking lot as he followed his brother up to their motel room. "Well, you did completely bankrupt the guy- I'd be pretty pissed off too."

Dean chuckled and nodded his head with pride. "We did make a killing," he laughed, yanking out the wad of money shoved into the back of his jeans and waving it around victoriously.

The younger brother snatched the pile from his brother's hands- neither stopping their forward momentum. "How much is this, anyway?" Sam questioned, flipping through the money.

"$2,500, man," Dean called over his shoulder, a grin plastered on his face. "How's lobster sound for dinner?" he asked in all seriousness; yet his eyes light.

"Dude, it's 1 in the morning," Sam laughed as they reached their room; watching his brother search his pockets for the keys.

"Breakfast?" Dean offered straight-faced.

Sam rolled his eyes but his grin grew, dimples showing and all.

Dean couldn't help but smile at his brother; it'd been a long time since he'd seen Sam look this...content.

"It's been a good night," the older brother sighed happily as he jiggled the key into the lock. "We ganked a fugly, won some serious cash, and we're getting lobster for breakfast."

"Dean, you hate seafood," Sam stated incredulously, shadowing his brother into their motel room after the door opened. "We should spend our money on things we actually need- like food that doesn't have eyes still attached to its body."

"But I thought we could, you know, do ultimate fighting with our lobsters..." Dean trailed off, snatching the money back and shoving it into his jean pocket.

Sam raised his eyebrows, but quirked a smile; sometimes he seriously thought his brother was a 26-year-old man child. "Alright, well while you battle dead sea creatures, I'm gonna do something useful and find us a new case," he retorted, shrugging off his hoodie and tossing it onto the bed farthest from the door.

"Actually, you know, I was thinking that maybe we could take some time off," Dean commented, treading carefully, "You know, see the Grand Canyon or the World's Largest Ball of Twine."

Sam sighed, pushing his bangs out of his face. "Dean-"

"-don't 'Dean' me, Sammy. We've been hunting non stop for what, the past three months? It's about time we got a little R&R."

"Dean, the longer we sit on our asses, the c-"

"-colder the trail gets to find dad," the older brother cut in, finishing Sam's sentence. "Dude, I know; we've been over this."

"Then why do you keep bringing it up?" Sam snapped back, bitch face firmly in place.

"Well, we're not exactly following the yellow brick road here." He retorted, somewhat incredulously.

Sam just huffed a breath and rolled his eyes, pulling out his laptop from his bag.

Dean stared at his brother for a moment, shaking his head a little before unzipping his own duffle bag. "When's the last time you slept for more than two hours?" he casually asked.

Sam clenched his jaw as he sat down on his bed. "Doesn't matter," he said, shrugging his shoulders, "I feel fine."

"That's not what I was asking." Dean fired back. When Sam only shot him a pointed look, he sighed and rolled his eyes, continuing to unload his bag. "I'm just sayin', I know you've been through hell the past few months; but running yourself into the ground isn't the way to deal."

"Then maybe I should 'deal' _your_ way; you know, drowning myself in liquor, trashy women, and physical violence."

Dean glared at his brother, "Smartass."

Sam took a deep breath. "Look, hunting takes my mind off of Je-" Sam's words cut off in his throat and he bowed his head; no way was he going to cry right now. "It takes my mind off of..._things_. Can we just leave it at that?"

Dean sighed and nodded his head; he knew when to back off.

...he also knew that Sam would eventually confide in him.

But for now, his little brother was hurting and he wasn't going to push him.

"Besides, we've seen the World's Largest Ball of Twine three times." Sam added softly, "How much more interesting can a cat toy get?"

Dean quirked a smile. "You used to love visiting that thing, you know."

"I was six. You could have given me a rock and I'd be entertained."

"Been there, done that," the older brother admitted with a smile.

Sam just smirked before focusing back to his computer; the tense air in the motel room disappearing.

Dean pulled out his gun from his waistband and set it on the bedside table; watching Sam busy himself with his laptop. He peeled off his leather jacket and tossed it over the end of his bed; tucking the amulet that hung rightfully around his neck underneath his shirt. He took a seat on the edge of his bed and began cleaning the weapons, Sam continuing his research.

It'd been a really simple case- a run of the mill casper had been haunting an ordinary house; turned out his bones were buried in the backyard after being bludgeoned to death by an ex-wife. A little salt and burn action, and then _poof_, ghost boy was gone.

To celebrate, the brothers' had gone out for drinks- much to Sam's disapproval, who'd wanted to head back to the motel early and turn in- and to stock up on some cash.

_"Alright, Sammy," Dean spoke up, clapping his hands together excitedly, "Time to win me some money," he finished, staring over at the several pool games going on._

_Sam scoffed and nursed at his beer, scanning the crowded bar uneasily. The music was blaring loudly and the overwhelming smell of alcohol, smoke and cheap perfume made his stomach churn. He jumped when Dean waved a hand in front of his face._

_"Hey, am I boring you over there?" _

_Sam blinked a few times and shook his head, "No, sorry. Have fun," he continued dully, nodding towards the pool tables._

_"Gee, Sammy, tone down the excitement, you're embarrassing me," he mocked sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Sam just quirked a half-hearted smile before staring blankly ahead. __"Hey, you okay?" Dean asked, staring at his brother with concern. _

_"M' Fine. Go have fun," Sam ushered, placing his beer onto the bar._

_"What's goin' on with you, Debbie Downer?"_

_Sam rolled his eyes and shoved his brother, "Dean, I'm fine. Really," he repeated, an edge to his voice._

_Dean was unconvinced, but let it go as he got up off his stool, clapping his brother on the back. "Then you can come help me win some cash," he grinned._

_"Great," Sam mumbled enthusiastically; but hopped off his stool and followed his brother anyway. _

_They found a game just getting started and Dean joined right in, putting on a drunk facade while Sam continuously attempted to convince his brother he was 'too drunk' and 'inexperienced' to play pool. But Dean just waved him off, putting down a $200 bet; the opponent matching it with confidence._

_Sam watched the game unfold, his brother's skills clearly no match for the other guy's. But something was bothering the younger brother; it was the way he seemed to be staring at his brother and himself. Sam would catch the opponent staring directly at him, a funny look in his eyes; like he was trying to remember something. _

_Dean was too involved in the game to realize this, but it didn't get past Sam. A half hour later, after the brothers were up $2,500, the man finally called it quits, slamming his pool stick down._

_"Good game, man," Dean said honestly, scooping up the pile of money on the table. The man just stared silently at Dean, fury in his eyes. _

_Sam shifted uneasily; he did not like the way this guy was sizing up his brother and quickly took a stand next to him, "Uh, Dean, you wanna head out?"_

_"Yeah, Sammy, let's go," Dean responded, breaking eye contact with the man. The guy's eyebrows suddenly shot up and his eyes went wide, as if a light went off in his head. _

_"Hey, Dean," the man called, after the brothers had turned around, "What'd ya say some day you teach me how to hussel like you?"_

_Dean paused and faced the guy,"Sorry man, but-"_

_"James. The name's James."_

_"Uh, sorry James, but it was more like beginners luck," he replied smoothly. _

_James just nodded slowly, his gaze flickering between the brothers; a smirk coming to his face. "Right," he sneered, "Well I'll see you boys around," he replied, his eyes narrowed slightly._

_Sam tugged at Dean's jacket, directing his brothers attention back to him and nodded his head towards the door, "Come on," he urged, making his way to the front door, Dean behind him._

_What they brothers didn't see before the Impala peeled out onto the main road, was James staring through the bar window, a malicious smile plastered on his face._

"Hey, I think I've got something," Sam spoke up after a few minutes, pulling Dean out of his thoughts.

"Let's hear it."

"Alright, so, Lawton, Pennsylvania; once a month, three girls go missing around the same time; their bodies are found later that-"

Sam was suddenly cut off by incessant pounding on the motel door; the brothers' heads snapping up towards the direction of the noise. The knocks got louder and faster as Dean and Sam jumped to their feet; grabbing their guns.

Dean motioned for Sam to stay back as he crept to the door, his gun armed and ready. He glanced out of the peephole, but only saw the top of someone's head, their head bowed; the knocking continued.

Sam watched his brother slowly unlock and open the door, his heart pounding in his chest; something was wrong; he could feel it.

As soon as Dean cracked the door opened, a girl came stumbling through it's entrance; the door slamming against the wall as it was shoved open the rest of the way.

Just as the girl was about to fall head first to the floor, Dean caught her limp body; shooting Sam a frantic look.

The girl froze in Dean's grasp, trembles shaking her small frame. Blood matted her long, dark hair down and was smeared along the rips and tears on her clothes.

"Hey, hey, hey," Dean soothed, struggling to stand the girl upright on shaking legs, "You okay, lady?"

It was a stupid question; obviously she wasn't okay. But it seemed reasonable at the moment.

The girl's head slowly rose; big, frightened, bright blue eyes bore into the older brothers; Sam hovered near by, adjusting the grip on his gun. The girl couldn't have been more than sixteen years old.

"Dean..." Sam started slowly, a pit beginning to form in his stomach.

But it wasn't Dean who responded.

The girl stared up at him, her eyes haunting, and whispered through cracked lips. "I'm sorry."

Not a second after those words left her tongue, two large figures came barreling into the motel room; one ripping the girl from Dean's grasp before he could even look up and the other pointing his gun directly at Sam. At the same time, Sam held his own gun towards the second man and Dean pointed his at the other who held the girl.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean roared, taking a few steps back so he was standing next to his brother.

"Drop the guns or we drop you!" the man holding the girl shouted, who whimpered at his outburst.

"What do you want?" Sam questioned, his heart pounding furiously as he locked eyes with the frightened girl.

"I'm not gonna ask you again," the same man growled; and at that moment, the brothers' saw the glint of a silver knife pressed up against the girls throat; a tiny trail of blood leaking from where the knife was placed. "Drop them!"

...and that's exactly what they did.

"Okay, okay! Just calm down!" Dean yelled.

The brother's slowly placed their guns at their feet; they didn't really have a choice- an innocent girl's life was on the line.

"Now put your hands above your head; and no funny business or I'll slit her throat," the man continued roughly.

Dean and Sam placed their hands on their heads, shooting each other a look, before focusing on the two guns pointed at them.

"Alright, come on in, boss," the second man called through the door. A few moments later, two more men sauntered in and then following behind them...was James- the guy from the bar.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," Dean muttered in disbelief.

"Hey boys," James spoke up with a eerie grin, "Told you I'd be seeing you soon."

"What the hell's goin' on?" Sam demanded, clenching his jaw tightly.

"We've got a _long_ night ahead of us..." James trailed off, glancing back and forth between Dean and Sam; before his sneer grew into a merciless smile, "So let's get started."

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